During the day, I tried by incessant
action to fatigue my body, that at night I might find forgetfulness
in sleep. Vain hope! since I found these letters, I have not slept an
hour."
From time to time, old Tabaret slyly consulted his watch. "M. Daburon
will be in bed," thought he.
"At last one morning," continued Noel, "after a night of rage, I
determined to end all uncertainty. I was in that desperate state of
mind, in which the gambler, after successive losses, stakes upon a card
his last remaining coin. I plucked up courage, sent for a cab, and was
driven to the de Commarin mansion."
The old amateur detective here allowed a sigh of satisfaction to escape
him.
"It is one of the most magnificent houses, in the Faubourg St. Germain,
my friend, a princely dwelling, worthy a great noble twenty times
millionaire; almost a palace in fact. One enters at first a vast
courtyard, to the right and left of which are the stables, containing
twenty most valuable horses, and the coach-houses. At the end rises the
grand facade of the main building, majestic and severe, with its immense
windows, and its double flight of marble steps. Behind the house is
a magnificent garden, I should say a park, shaded by the oldest trees
which perhaps exist in all Paris.
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